


Under the Red Lantern

by PhoenyxNova



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Anal Sex, Begging, Blood Kink, Bottom Dean Winchester, Brother/Brother Incest, Cock Cages, Cunnilingus, Demisexual Michael, Dom!Crowley, Dom!Michael, Double Anal Penetration, Double Penetration, Drunken Confessions, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Incest Kink, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, POV Crowley (Supernatural), POV Michael (Supernatural), Polyamory, Praise Kink, Prostate Milking, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rare Pairings, Sex Toys, Sex in/on the Impala (Supernatural), Sexuality Crisis, Shameless Smut, Smut, Sounding, Sub!Dean, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2019, Watersports, Wax Play, accent kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-07-09 13:00:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 20,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19888237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenyxNova/pseuds/PhoenyxNova
Summary: Crowley is happy with his life. He thinks so, anyway. On his 40th birthday, his boyfriend, Dean, buys him a prostitute. What Crowley doesn't count on is that he isn't able to get Michael out of his head.





	1. You and Me and the Hooker Makes Three

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Red Star of Bethlehem](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9460676) by [BelovedFool](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelovedFool/pseuds/BelovedFool). 



“Happy Birthday, babe.” Dean handed a wrapped box over to his boyfriend with a sly grin. He and Crowley had been dating for about a year now. Since their first meeting in the straightest of strip clubs, it had been a nonstop party of wine, women, and classic rock songs.

Dean knew better than to make a big deal about Crowley’s 40th birthday, so it was just a quiet affair in the home they shared. Just the two of them, as far as Crowley knew. That was just the way he wanted it, too.

Crowley smirked and took a seat on the lush couch, untying the ribbon that held the box closed. Tearing the wrapping paper off, he opened the box and unfolded the many layers of dark red tissue paper, raising his brow when he saw the contents of the box. “A collar?” He smirked and held up a black leather collar, adorned with a padlock and an O-ring in the center. “Well, well, well. This is a happy birthday indeed.”

“Oh, it’s not for me.” Dean leaned against the wall to the hallway, smirking coyly. “It’s for your _other_ gift.” His smirk widened into a grin and he gestured with his head for Crowley to follow him. “It has _not_ been easy to keep you out of the bedroom since you got home.”

Crowley got up and smirked, one hand slipping into his jacket pocket. “I’m incorrigible. It’s one of the things you love about me.” He slipped an arm around Dean’s waist and pulled him in for a peck on the lips before allowing Dean to lead him to the bedroom. When the door opened, Crowley could barely contain the grin that threatened to split his face. “Dean, you shouldn’t have.”

Laying on the bed, in a casually seductive pose, was a man around Dean’s age, maybe a year or two older, but unquestionably attractive. Not that Dean wasn’t a looker, of course, but Crowley was a little taken aback by how beautiful this man was. Slightly tanned, black hair that was perfectly styled, a jawline for days, and a well chiseled body that was just barely covered by a pair of black pants, a mostly open, white button up shirt, and a loose tie that hung from around his neck. Dean wasn’t always sure what to do to make Crowley happy, but he’d done well in setting this night up.

The man looked ever so slightly bored, and perhaps a little less than happy. He was smiling, of course, but it was that customer service smile that didn’t quite reach the eyes. Crowley sauntered over to the bed and took a seat next to him, smiling his most charming smile. “Why so sad, angel?”

Michael seemed a little surprised, but he smiled a little easier. He sat up, putting himself more at eye level, and smirked at Crowley. “Just wanting to wish you a happy birthday,” he purred.

Dean sat on Michael’s other side and leaned his chin on his shoulder. “I figured a milestone birthday needs a helluva celebration, and you wouldn’t let me throw a party, so … I bought the next best thing. What do you think, daddy?”

Crowley’s brow raised as he realized what the arrangement must have been. He prided himself on being a man that didn’t have to pay for sex, but he also wasn’t going to let the chance for a threesome go to waste. He smirked and hovered his hand over Michael’s well-toned thigh. “May I … what’s your name, angel?”

Michael smirked and lifted his thigh up to meet Crowley’s hand. “Michael. Please do.”

Crowley smiled and leaned in to kiss at Michael’s neck, his hand sliding up to Michael’s hip. Dean bit into Michael’s neck, who in turn tangled his hand into the dark blond hair of the taller man. The two lovers briskly worked to remove Michael’s shirt, Crowley taking a moment to fold it at the shoulders to lay it over the back of the nearby chair. When he turned his attention back to the other two, Michael was guiding Dean off the bed to kneel on the floor in front of him. Crowley bit his lip and walked over to the bar cart in the corner of the room to pour himself a drink before he took a seat in the chair, curious to see where this was going.

Michael had appeared to have sensed that Dean was the bottom in the relationship. He also, judging by the way he watched Crowley, watching from over the rim of a crystal glass of scotch, he was clearly the top. Or, at least he thought was. It wasn’t inconceivable for Crowley to switch for Michael. For now, though – Crowley was content to watch – Michael was going to focus his attention on Dean. He stood from his place on the bed and loomed over the taller man. “I want you to unzip me,” he said in a commanding tone. His gaze flicked up to Crowley and he smirked. “You can start taking your clothes off.”

Crowley’s eyebrows shot up, not particularly used to being told what to do, but he felt no inclination to ignore the order. He set his glass down and stood, a sly smirk curling his lips as he loosened his tie.

Dean unzipped Michael’s pants, glancing between him and his boyfriend. When Michael’s length sprang free, his attention was brought back to the task at hand. He watched Michael’s cock bob in front of his face and licked him from base to tip, groaning softly with need.

Crowley slowly undressed, letting his shirt fall from his shoulders. He knew he wasn’t the most attractive man in the room. He was middle aged, with a receding hairline to boot. He wasn’t in the best of shape, he was hirsute, and he hadn’t shaved in months. Still, he carried himself with confidence, and he worked with what he had. That was part of what made him so charming. And it probably helped that Crowley was the proud owner of a Monster Cock™.

But when Dean’s tongue dragged against the underside of his cock, he purred, eyes darkening as he continued to watch Crowley to undress. Michael’s attention was drawn back to Dean soon enough, however, as the blond wrapped his lips around his cock and sucked slowly. A throaty groan slipped from Michael’s lips, and from the corner of his eye, he could see the older man take a seat again.

Crowley leaned back in his seat and picked up his glass of scotch once more, smirking as he watched his boyfriend take a mouthful of cock. He languidly started stroking himself to the sight. He noticed, though, that Michael didn’t seem to be particularly enjoying himself. He remembered the collar Dean had given to him, and saw it laying forgotten on the bed. “You know, if you want to be able to keep him where you want him, you’re more than welcome to make use of that collar.”

Dean’s eyes snapped up to Crowley. This clearly wasn’t how he expected this night to go. Michael pulled back and picked up the collar, deftly closing it around Dean’s neck and securing it shut. Dean’s green eyes grew darker as he looked up at Michael.

“Why don’t you lay him on his back?” Crowley suggested with a smirk, his hand idly ghosting over his cock.

“Not a bad idea.” Michael’s smirk mirrored Crowley’s, and he hooked his finger into the O-ring of the collar and pulled Dean to his feet. It was a little awkward, leading a man taller than you around the room, but he made it look effortless. He pushed Dean down onto the bed and pushed his trousers down, all the way off. “Strip for us, Dean,” he purred.

Dean didn’t have to be told twice. He let his plaid shirt slide off his shoulders and tossed it unceremoniously to the side, doing the same with the undershirt he wore. He unfastened his pants and slid them down, but it was Michael that pulled them off. Dean was already wearing another surprise for Crowley: A pair of black, lacy panties.

Crowley bit his lip at the sight, looking between the two other men. He watched as Michael slowly stalked around to the other side of the bed, tapping his cock expectantly on Dean’s lips. Dean opened his mouth, and Michael once again plunged himself into the warm wetness. Crowley could see Dean’s throat expand slightly with the girth that made its way down as far as he could manage.

When Michael started rocking his hips into the blond’s mouth, Crowley decided it was about time for him to join in the fun. He waltzed over to the side of the bed where Dean’s legs dangled off, and hiked them up to place himself between his boyfriend’s thighs. Reaching to the nightstand to fish a bottle of lube out of the drawer, his free hand went to palm Dean’s cock, feeling it twitch in need. The older man smirked and slicked himself, taking a moment to enjoy the visual of such a beautiful man fucking his boyfriend’s throat.

He ripped a hole in the panties Dean wore – it wasn’t the first pair he’d ruined, and it probably wouldn’t be the last – and pushed himself through his boyfriend’s entrance. Dean groaned, which sent electricity up Michael’s spine.

Michael pulled his cock from Dean’s mouth and watched as Crowley grabbed hold of the O-ring to pull him closer. “Give daddy a kiss,” he purred, Dean’s chest flush against his. Dean eagerly obliged, leaving his lips parted open as an invitation for Crowley to invade him. As Crowley pushed his tongue into Dean’s mouth, he offered the bottle of lube to Michael, rocking his hips slowly into Dean’s.

He shut his eyes, lost in the passion of the kiss, and the next thing he knew, his back was against the bed and Dean was looming over him. It took him a moment to reorient himself, but he saw Michael walk around the bed to stand behind Dean. Crowley smirked a little darkly and hooked his finger around the O-ring once more to pull Dean down into another, fiery kiss. His eyes, though, were locked onto Michael.

He watched Michael pull a condom from his pants pockets. He rolled it onto his length and slicked himself. Crowley was surprised when a groan escaped his throat when he felt Michael’s length against his own, pushing through Dean’s tight ring of muscle to stretch him even further. Dean broke the kiss to let out a pleasured cry, panting heavily. His cock twitched with the ache to be touched.

Michael and Crowley alternated their movements, and Dean’s lips sought out Crowley’s, capturing them in a searing kiss. The older man growled into the kiss, but his eyes remained on Michael. He was taking in every detail of the other man. The slight sheen of sweat that highlighted his face, the way his immaculately combed black hair was starting to get mussed and stick to his forehead. Dean must not have intended it, but Crowley was starting to think perhaps Michael might become a more permanent addition to the relationship.

Crowley pushed his tongue into Dean’s mouth again to reclaim him, one hand tangling in his lover’s hair, the other sliding up Michael’s thigh. As he felt himself near his edge, his nails dug gently into Michael’s leg. His eyes fluttered shut and he gave himself over to complete bliss. His hips stuttered and stilled as he hit his release, filling Dean to the brim, and – judging by Michael’s sudden halt – he had too.

Michael reached around Dean’s body and started stroking his length to bring him to a similar end. It didn’t take long for Dean to hit his climax, covering Crowley’s chest with white, hot cum.

Crowley purred his approval and separated himself from his boyfriend, watching Michael do the same before disappearing into the connected bathroom. Dean had lolled off to the side, a dazed, goofy, satisfied grin on his face. He looked up at Crowley and pressed a more tender kiss to his lips. “Happy birthday, daddy,” he cooed.

Crowley smirked. “Thank you, love.” He glanced up to see Michael come back in with a wet wash cloth, growling happily as he felt how warm it was against his chest. Michael took extra, special care in cleaning his two clients. “And thank _you_ , angel.” He smiled at Michael and held his arm out, gesturing for him to come and lay down with them for a moment. “Dean, love, do you think you could get our guest some water?”

Michael lay next to Crowley as Dean got up shakily and shuffled his way to the kitchen.

Crowley turned his attention onto Michael, but his smile was unlike that he’d given Dean. It was a little softer, more charming. “May I have a kiss?” he asked. It was a surprisingly polite question, given the directness of the order he’d given Dean earlier.

Michael looked a little taken aback, but not wholly repulsed by the idea. He smirked and rested a hand on Crowley’s still damp chest. “Now, why would you want that?” he asked, teasingly.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about kissing you,” Crowley said, quite honestly. He leaned in, lips just barely brushing against Michael’s, but he waited for the younger man to close the remaining distance between them.

Michael pressed a soft kiss to Crowley’s lips, and the older man completely melted into it. Michael’s lips were surprisingly soft. Crowley ran his fingers through Michael’s black hair, marveling at how soft it was. He’d only just realized that he hadn’t really gotten much of a chance to actually _touch_ Michael. Now that he had, he didn’t want to stop.

All too soon, Michael pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed. Crowley watched him as he pulled his pants back on, sitting up against the pillows.

Michael dressed slowly, and Crowley had to admit he was still extremely attractive, even when he was all put together. About the time he was retying his tie, Michael looked over at Crowley and smirked playfully. Crowley couldn’t help but mirror the smirk. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to leave you my number,” Michael said. He wrote his personal phone number on a scratch piece of paper and handed it over to Crowley. “Just in case you ever want a repeat of tonight.”

Crowley’s smirk softened into a smile as he took the paper, looking at it almost fondly. He caught himself and set the paper on the nightstand. “That may be sooner than you think,” Crowley teased. He winked at Michael, who winked back in turn and turned toward the door. “Don’t be a stranger, angel,” he called after Michael before the door shut.


	2. Holding My Own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley has a hard time focusing on Dean when another man keeps invading his thoughts.

It had been almost a week, and Michael had scarcely left Crowley’s mind. He had done his best to try to refocus on his boyfriend, but it wasn’t supremely easy. It was almost like having pie his whole life just to find out how sweet cake really was. Sure, pie was still good, but cake had seemed to satisfy every single one of is cravings.

When he got home from work, he let out a sigh and sat in his car for a moment. He glanced to the side as he put his car in park, and saw Dean’s Baby™ in the garage next to him. Dean was home. He managed a smile, thinking that perhaps a night with his amazingly attractive boyfriend would be just the thing he’d need to get his mind off of Michael once and for all.

He finally shut his car off and headed inside. Dean wasn’t in the kitchen, it seemed. Or the living room. Nor was he anywhere downstairs. Crowley guessed where Dean was and smirked to himself, heading up the stairs and to the bedroom.

Sure enough, there he was. The 6’1”, strapping man was laying completely bare on the bed. Lord only knew how long he was laying there, waiting for Crowley to walk in, but the older man had rather appreciated the surprise.

Dean smiled and sat up against the pillows, slowly stroking his already erect cock. “Hey, daddy,” he purred, voice barely a low rumble. Crowley grinned and took his jacket off, laying it over the back of the chair at the end of the bed.

“Don’t stop on my account.” Crowley walked over to the bar cart and poured himself a glass of scotch, eyes taking in every detail of his boyfriend’s features. From his tall physique, to his chiseled jawline, to the piercing green eyes that regarded him in a similar way. Dean really was _stupidly_ hot. There wasn’t anything about him that wasn’t perfect, in some shape or form.

Dean stroked himself with a little more purpose, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Just watching tonight?” He shifted his bowed legs and moved in such a way that Crowley could really enjoy the view from where he sat.

“For now,” he growled, finally taking a seat and reclining comfortably – not unlike how one would sit on a throne. “Do a good enough job, love, and I may even reward you.” The older man smirked and unzipped himself, taking a sip from his crystal glass.

Dean’s lips stretched into a grin and he started groaning, thrusting his hips upward to meet his hand. His other hand slipped between his legs, a finger sliding past his entrance. His eyes locked with Crowley’s, jaw hanging loose as pleasured moans fell from his lips.

Crowley would have been a fool to take this sight for granted. And yet, even as he started touching himself to the sight of his gorgeous boyfriend pleasuring himself for his amusement, all he could think of was Michael. The memory of Michael’s dark hair clinging to his forehead, the way his eyes smoldered with intensity as they bored into Crowley’s, the way his mouth was slightly agape as his breathing grew more ragged.

Crowley’s eyes fluttered shut as the memories came flooding back, with all the feelings he felt coming right along with them. The frustration that, apart from the kiss, he hadn’t truly had a chance to taste Michael for himself. He felt his cock throb in want of the dark haired man and started moving his hand more needily.

His eyes opened again, and Dean was smirking. He clearly wasn’t aware of Crowley’s current thought process. If he had been, he might have been a little more reluctant to continue his current ministrations.

The two of them eyed each other as they touched themselves, but Crowley’s mind was far away.

Finally, after hearing a particularly pathetic whine from Dean, Crowley’s mind came back to the room he was in. He smirked at his boyfriend and gestured for him to come closer, to which Dean gleefully responded by crawling toward Crowley on his hands and knees. “Yes, daddy?”

“You’ve been a good boy,” he growled, standing and walking to the edge of the bed. “Would you like to suck daddy’s cock?”

Dean’s length twitched in arousal as he licked his lips. “Yes, please, daddy,” he groaned. He leaned in and ran his tongue along the underside of Crowley’s not inconsiderable length. Crowley guided his cock into Dean’s mouth and down his throat, groaning softly at the warm, wet sensation. Dean swallowed around Crowley, groaning from the weight of his dom’s dick on his tongue, sending vibrations through the older man’s body.

Crowley hummed in satisfaction and slowly began rocking his hips into Dean’s mouth, his fingers weaving through the dirty blond hair and gripping tightly. His hips picked up speed as he lost himself in the comforting sensation of Dean’s mouth. “Fuck, Dean,” he growled, looking down at his lover. The thought of Michael crept into his mind again, and he tamped it as far down as he could. His boyfriend was the one he loved. The one in his bed every night. He had to keep telling himself that.

Soon enough, his climax hit, and his hips stilled as he filled Dean’s mouth with his release. Dean swallowed around him again and pulled back with a soft _pop_ , looking hungrily up at him. “How did I do, daddy?”

“Very good, love,” Crowley purred. He leaned in and kissed Dean before taking a seat again. “Now, let me watch you finish yourself off.”

Dean shifted so his legs dangled off the edge of the bed and continued to stroke himself, at his own pace this time.

Crowley leaned back and let his thoughts drift to Michael once more. He didn’t understand how he could be thinking of another man while his boyfriend literally bent to his every whim. He didn’t understand it, but he had decided he was going to call Michael in for another night. Dean had certainly enjoyed his company.

Yes, it was decided. He was going to have Michael over again.


	3. It's Not Right but It's Okay

Crowley hung up the phone with a soft smile. He’d been waffling back and forth for a couple of days about whether or not to call Michael, but ultimately he decided he was at an age where he shouldn’t care nearly as much. He wanted to know Michael better. He was intrigued by him.

He walked into the living room, where Dean was reclining back on the couch, feet up on the coffee table. Crowley smiled and sat next to him, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “I wanted to let you know, I invited Michael over.”

“Michael?” Dean’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Who’s Michael?”

Crowley felt his heart sink a little. This wasn’t going to play out as well as he had hoped it would. “Michael, you know … from my birthday?”

Dean’s gaze narrowed as he thought and he finally remembered. “Oh yeah, him! His name was Michael?” Not that Crowley was particularly surprised that Dean hadn’t remembered. He wasn’t amazing with names. Still, it did put him in a damn awkward position.

“Yes,” he said, after a moment. “I thought it would be nice to have some company, and he seemed charming enough.”

“Sure, for a hooker, I guess.” He went to take a sip of his beer, but froze at the look on Crowley’s face.

“That’s exactly what you _won’t_ call him, is that clear?” Crowley’s voice was stern and reprimanding, and Dean’s cock was the first to respond to the tone. In his peripheral, Crowley could see Dean’s pants shift as the blood flow redirected from his brain to his dick. Crowley smirked and cupped Dean’s face with his hand, pulling him a little closer. “Good boy,” he growled, closing the distance between them to kiss him. “All I’m asking is that you treat him like a person. If you can do that for me, I’ll reward you quite handsomely. Deal?”

Dean returned the kiss and nodded. “Yes, sir,” he managed to choke out.

Before long, there was a knock at the door. Crowley got up to answer the door, and he had to admit – his brain stuttered a moment when he saw Michael in the dim light of the porchlight. The moonlight glistening in his dark hair, his piercing blue eyes, that knowing smile on his face. Michael chuckled, and Crowley was left to wonder if he could tell his brain had flatlined for a moment.

Crowley cleared his throat and regained himself. “Nice to see you again,” he said, flashing his charming smile. “Please, do come in.”

“Thank you.” Michael stepped into the foyer and slipped his well-tailored jacket off his shoulders to hang it on the coat rack. Crowley couldn’t help but look Michael over again. He was incredibly well put together, wearing a gray three piece suit and a white, fitted button down. This time, he wore no tie, but the first button of his shirt was undone. “What can I do for you tonight?” he asked, evidently having some expectations as to how this evening was going to go.

Crowley smirked and shook his head. “We would just like the pleasure of your company,” he assured him. Noting the taken aback expression on Michael’s face, he extended an arm, gesturing for Michael to follow, and led him into the living room. When he sat on the couch next to Dean, he motioned for Michael to join them.

Michael seemed a little apprehensive, but he obliged, sitting next to Crowley and leaning gently on him. Crowley could feel Michael’s tense muscles against his body. He started to touch Michael, but thought better of it and took his hand back. “May I?” he asked. When Michael, again, looked a little surprised, Crowley wondered if he had done something wrong. Then Michael nodded his head and Crowley very gently began to rub his back until his muscles relaxed. When Michael settled against Crowley again, Crowley put his arm around him and leaned in to kiss Dean. “What would you like to watch, love?”

Dean snuggled against Crowley and breathed softly in thought. “I was thinking some Batman would be fun to watch,” he confessed. “That sound good to you, Michael?” He leaned forward just slightly to look at the other man.

“Sounds fine to me,” Michael replied in a small voice. It was clear he was out of his element, but he was relaxing more and more as the minutes passed.

Crowley picked up the remote for the smart TV and used its voice feature to search for Batman movies. “Which one do we want to watch?”

“Definitely the original,” Dean chimed. He took the remote from Crowley and pressed play on the 1989 Batman movie. He set the remote down on the coffee table and nuzzled deeper into Crowley’s embrace.

As worried as he had been that this would be an awkward night, Crowley had to admit this was kind of nice. He wanted to talk with Michael, but he didn’t want to interrupt the movie. He settled for resting his head against Michael’s head.

Michael, it seemed, was also a Michael Keaton fan, because he appeared to be having as much fun with the movie as Dean was. Crowley mused that the two were more alike than they knew, but kept the thought to himself.

The evening progressed more peacefully than Crowley could have hoped, and he breathed a sigh of relief more than once. For a moment, Crowley felt hope that Dean might be secure enough in their relationship to add a third party. After all, the more Dean was exposed to Michael, the more he seemed to warm up to him.

Unfortunately, the night had to come to an end. It was Michael that got up first. He had checked his phone and Crowley guessed that he had a client. “Looks like it’s time for me to go,” Michael almost whined.

“Let me walk you out.” Crowley stood and helped Michael up out of the exorbitantly plush couch, leading him back into the foyer. Before Michael could reach for it, Crowley picked the man’s jacket off of the coat rack and held it up to let Michael’s arms slip inside. “Did you park too far away?”

“I parked a few doors down.” Michael clearly wanted to be polite, but also knew the need for discretion in his line of work.

Crowley, however, didn’t see the shame in inviting Michael over. It was innocent enough. They watched a movie and cuddled on the couch. What was wrong with that? He smiled at Michael and opened the front door. “I’ll walk you to your car,” he offered. Before Michael could argue, he was walking outside, holding the door open for Michael.

Michael didn’t seem entirely sure of what to make of this, but he smiled all the same. As he made his way to the car, Crowley walked alongside him. “There’s really no need to do this,” Michael half-protested.

“When I was growing up, it was considered rude to let a guest walk to their car alone.” He offered a smile to Michael in the moonlight, heart skipping a beat as he saw the moonlight in Michael’s raven hair again. It was absolutely striking. When they eventually did reach Michael’s car, a surprisingly nice Porsche, Crowley stopped and started to pull out his wallet. “How much do I owe you for the lovely evening?” he asked.

Michael’s brow quirked, but he smiled and gently lowered Crowley’s hand, indicating he should put his wallet away. “This one’s on me,” he said. He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Crowley’s lips, lingering for just a moment before pulling away to slide into his car. Before he shut the door, he shot a wink to Crowley and smirked. “Thank you. I had a great time.”

Crowley was still a little dazed by the kiss, but he smiled stupidly and nodded. “You’re welcome to come back any time,” he offered.

Michael chuckled and smirked. “I might just take you up on that.” With that, he closed the door and drove off.

When Crowley made it back to the house, he had the stupidest grin on his face. Dean seemed to notice, and didn’t appear to know how to feel about it. Crowley took his seat next to Dean and kissed him. “Thank you,” he purred, nuzzling his nose against his boyfriend’s.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Dean started, “but why invite him at all?”

Crowley paused a moment. He wasn’t honestly sure. “Well, I suppose I thought it would be nice to have some company over for once,” he suggested. “We so rarely have anyone over, I thought it might be a nice change of pace.”

Dean didn’t appear to be satisfied with that answer, but he accepted it. After all, he knew Crowley loved _him_. “It _was_ kind of nice having someone else around that appreciates Batman,” he chuckled. He nuzzled his nose into the crook of Crowley’s neck and smirked. “Now … about that reward.”


	4. Rock-a-bye Baby

Since the night they had watched Batman, Crowley had wanted to see Michael again. However, he didn’t particularly want to upset Dean any more than he already had. Dean was, evidently, not particularly interested in sharing, and something was possessing him to see Michael anyway. He knew that made him bloody wretched, but he couldn’t help the way he felt. He wanted Dean, but he also desperately wanted Michael. He wasn’t sure where that left him, but he was sure he wouldn’t like the answer.

Still, he didn’t want to go behind Dean’s back. He pulled Dean onto his lap and smiled at him. “What would you say if I said I wanted to invite Michael over again?”

Dean whined and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. “I’m too tired,” he complained. “Can’t it wait for tomorrow night?”

Crowley would have been lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed. But, he wasn’t really going to take no for an answer. He brushed his thumb against Dean’s cheek and pressed his forehead to his lover’s. “Why don’t you go ahead and go to bed? I can entertain him.” His voice was smooth, just the tone Dean needed to hear to agree to anything he said.

Dean looked at his boyfriend with a quirked brow. “You want to see him that badly?” He didn’t sound accusatory, which Crowley supposed he was thankful for. Dean’s gaze fixated on the wall for a moment while he thought, then turned back to Crowley. “Tell you what. I won’t complain about you seeing Michael, but you’re mine every other night. Starting tonight.”

Crowley could hardly argue with that. After all, he very much wanted to keep Dean in his life. He grinned and kissed Dean passionately. “I’ll tell _you_ what. Why don’t you put on one of your nicer plaid shirts and I’ll take you out somewhere.” Besides, it wasn’t often they went on dates anymore. It might be nice to rekindle whatever lost romance they might have had. “Go on. I’ll even let you drive.”

Dean beamed and got up to get changed, chuckling when Crowley smacked his ass. Crowley watched Dean head upstairs and looked at his phone. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, he would be able to see Michael again, more or less guilt free. He smiled and put his sport coat on, buttoning the top button as he waited for Dean to come back downstairs.

When Dean eventually did reemerge from the second floor, Crowley was surprised to see him in a suit. A _very_ well-tailored suit. Crowley’s eyes moved up and down Dean’s body, taking in the sight before him. He smirked. The suit was a very attractive gray three piece with a black, brocade tie and matching pocket square. Crowley gestured for Dean to come closer and smiled as his boyfriend approached. “You look fantastic,” he purred, resting his hands on the taller man’s hips.

“What’s the plan?” Dean straightened his tie and wrapped his arms around Crowley’s waist. He stooped down to kiss his boyfriend and smirked. “Am I gonna get the famous Crowley Dinner Date™? Or did you have something else in mind?”

“I was thinking we could dine by the pier, park on the beach, and see where we go from there.” Crowley ran his hands up Dean’s back and held him close, purring softly. “How does that sound?”

Dean’s voice was little more than a soft purr, hearing that plan. He smiled and nodded. “I think that sounds awesome. He took Crowley’s hand and led him to the garage, jingling the keys to the Impala.

The two of them slid into their respective seats, Crowley smirking to himself as he watched his boyfriend drive the car he prized so much. As much as he had wanted to see Michael that night, it was a nice reminder that he could be happy with what he had.

The dinner on the patio of the restaurant was pleasant enough. They shared laughs, dishes, and drinks. Dean even tried the top shelf scotch Crowley suggested, and Crowley let Dean order him a fruity cocktail.

As they walked along the beach to return to the Impala, Crowley looked up at Dean and admired the way the moonlight outlined his boyfriend’s profile. He slithered an arm around Dean’s waist and drew him closer, resting his head against his shoulder. Dean’s arm slid around Crowley’s shoulders, holding him just as close.

When they got back to the car, Crowley spun Dean around and pressed his back against the car door, smirking devilishly. “Well, what shall we do now?” he asked, knowingly. As he pressed his hips against Dean’s, he could feel the younger man’s cock harden against him. “I’ll take that as my answer.” He grinned and kissed Dean heatedly pulling him down by the thin lapels of his suit to pull him deeper into the kiss. Crowley ground his hips up against Dean’s, drinking in the beautiful groans of pleasure that bubbled up from the other man’s throat. After another few moments, he opened the back door, slipping into the back seat.

Dean followed close behind him, shut the door, and kissed Crowley hard enough to push him down onto his back. Crowley could feel his own dick strain against the fabric of his pants at the sensation. Crowley grabbed a fistful of Dean’s hair and yanked him further into the kiss, his free hand clawing at his lover’s back.

Crowley frotted up against Dean and shoved his tongue deep into his mouth. Dean let out a soft whine and parted his legs to straddle Crowley, rocking his hips needily. The older man reached between them and undid Dean’s belt, whipping it off with a snap of fabric. Dean gasped softly and leaned in to bite at Crowley’s neck as Crowley worked to undo his own belt and pants.

When Dean felt Crowley palming at his cock, he quickly started to do what his boyfriend had, unzipping his pants and wiggling out of them as best he could in the back seat of the car. By the time he was bare from the waist down, Crowley had withdrawn his hard cock from the confines of his pants, lazily stroking it as he watched Dean closely.

Dean’s eyes darkened with lust at the sight of his boyfriend below him, growling softly. He dragged his tongue from his boyfriend’s balls up to the tip of his not inconsiderable length, and sank his mouth onto him. Crowley moaned loudly as he watched nearly the entirety of his length disappear into Dean’s mouth.

Dean’s head began to bob up and down on him, tongue darting out to lap at his lover’s balls as Crowley’s cock hit the back of his throat. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked long and hard on the length in his mouth, pressing his tongue to the underside. Crowley hissed softly as he was sucked off, and ran his fingers through Dean’s messy hair. “Love, let me fuck you,” he almost pleaded.

The taller man smirked as he pulled away, licking his lips. “What’s the magic word?”

“Bloody … PLEASE, dammit!” Crowley was half whining.

Dean leaned over the front seat and reached for the glove compartment, grabbing a half-full bottle of lube and returning to his straddled position over Crowley. Crowley took the bottle and slicked himself, never taking his eyes off of Dean. His own eyes smoldered heatedly as he gazed up at his lover, and he couldn’t help but stroke himself to the look Dean was giving him.

Dean positioned himself over Crowley and lowered himself onto his long, thick cock. Breathing heavily from how slowly Dean sank onto him, Crowley sat up, grabbed Dean’s hips, and pushed him onto his back. Dean gasped again and wrapped his legs around his lover. Crowley leaned in and sank his teeth into Dean’s neck as he started to pound himself into Dean.

His breath grew ragged, and the moans that poured from Dean’s lips fueled him to go faster. Crowley ripped Dean’s shirt open and dipped down to take a nipple into his mouth, gently flicking his tongue against the sensitive nub as he set his teeth around it. Dean cried out a delicious cry and dug his nails into Crowley’s woefully still clothed back.

Crowley’s hand fisted against the leather of the back rest, other hand gripping the front seat to steady himself. His hips rocked with such force that the car rocked with him. Dean placed his hands above his head against the door to prevent himself from hitting his head. This meant, however, that his twitching cock was going untouched. Crowley noticed his boyfriend’s predicament and angled his hips just differently enough to ram against his prostate.

Dean’s closed eyes snapped open, absolutely cross-eyed from bliss. Crowley smirked to himself and let his hand fall from the back rest of the backseat, instead moving to stroke him in time with his thrusts. Pleas and praises were pouring from each of them, both muttering the other’s name. Crowley sank his teeth into Dean’s neck, sucking a dark spot onto his boyfriend’s flesh. Dean swallowed thickly and groaned deep in the back of his throat. “Fuck, Crowley,” he breathed.

“Come for me, Dean,” Crowley rasped, nipping at Dean’s ear. He leaned back and watched Dean’s face as their simultaneous releases hit. Crowley’s filling Dean to the brim, and Dean’s spraying all over his chest in white, sticky spurts. The two of them rode out their orgasms, and Crowley leaned down to lick Dean’s cum off his chest. Dean let his eyes flutter shut at the sensation of Crowley’s searing, wet tongue against his flesh, and slid his arm around his boyfriend.

Once Dean’s chest was licked more or less clean, Crowley let himself collapse onto his lover and pressed his lips against his in a kiss. Dean was unglued, left a motionless, babbling mess. “I think I need a minute before I drive anywhere,” he managed to get out, running his hands gently through Crowley’s hair.

“I might give you a minute,” Crowley teased.

“I love you,” Dean muttered against Crowley’s lips.

“I love you too.”


	5. Ticket To Ride

Michael’s mind didn’t often wander during sex. He may not completely enjoy sex, but he did his best to be in the moment and find what pleasure he could. Since his birthday appointment with Crowley and the Winchester boy, however, he found that his thoughts drifted more and more.

For instance, why did Crowley keep asking permission to touch him? Was it a generational thing? Was he just being genuinely polite? Or were there ulterior motives? Whatever it was, Michael wasn’t used to it. He especially wasn’t used to being kissed as tenderly as Crowley seemed to kiss him.

He leaned down and left a soft trail of gentle bite marks down Anna’s neck, down to her clavicle. His tongue flicked out and ran along the line of her collarbone, growling softly against her skin as he pounded himself into her.

As a matter of fact, he wasn’t used to anything about Crowley. Inviting him over for a movie and offering to pay for his time was strange, but what was stranger was the way Michael felt about him.

Michael was, what he considered, happily asexual. He didn’t feel sexually attracted to … well, anyone, and he was fine with that. It was part of the reason he had entered into this line of work. He didn’t get attached to anyone. But with Crowley? It was remarkably different. He hadn’t even had sex with him, and he found he wanted to, and it wasn’t just the size of his cock, either … though, he certainly wanted to ride him, and had since the moment he saw it.

Anna pushed him onto his back and started riding him, running her hands up his chest.

So why was he so disappointed that they hadn’t had sex that night he was invited over to watch a movie? _Was_ he sexually attracted to Crowley? This flew in the face of everything he knew about himself. He was so sure he was asexual, but the way he remembered Crowley that night of his birthday still seeped its way into his mind.

The intense way the man’s brown eyes gazed into his soul as he kissed Dean, in particular, was one of the images burned into his mind. He felt his cock twitch slightly at the memory. It didn’t take long for his thoughts to drift to the way Crowley’s flesh felt against his. The soft hand on his thigh, the brush of his lips against Michael’s … It overtook his mind like a disease.

He found himself wishing he was with Crowley right now, instead of one of his other clients. Anna was a perfectly wonderful client, and never asked too much of him, but she lacked the intensity Crowley had.

Still, her money was as good as everyone else’s, so he did his best to forget about Crowley, at least for a couple of hours, and focus on Anna.

By the time he was done and getting dressed, he was receiving a text message. Another client. So soon? Well, if it paid the bills. He tapped his phone open and looked at the sender’s information. It was Crowley MacLeod. It was all he could do not to leap for joy in front of Anna, but it was most certainly a temptation.

He kissed her goodbye and slipped out the door, heading for his Porsche. He looked again at the text and beamed.

_Can I see you tonight? – C_

Michael smirked and shot back. _Business or pleasure?_ Not that he really thought it mattered. He was happy to see Crowley no matter the occasion.

His phone buzzed as he got his answer. _Hopefully both? – C_

Michael chuckled and nodded to himself, pulling the car out of the driveway and heading toward Crowley’s house.


	6. You Will Be Waiting

Crowley was sitting in the living room, waiting for Michael to ring the doorbell. Dean had gone to bed and had wished him luck with Michael, and Crowley was eternally grateful for a boyfriend that seemed to understand. It wasn’t that he was unhappy with his relationship with Dean at all. It was just that he also wanted some kind of relationship with Michael. Even if he was on the clock all the time. Crowley had the money to burn.

The doorbell rang and Crowley was jarred from his thoughts, but he couldn’t help his smile. He opened the door to see Michael, once again, dressed impeccably. He felt an odd warmth spread through his chest at the sight of the younger man’s smile. “Why don’t you come in?” He stepped to the side to allow Michael entry, gesturing widely for him to come in.

Michael chuckled and stepped over the threshold, slipping his sport coat off and hanging it up on the coat rack. It had been just long enough since they’d seen each other that Crowley was taken aback by the luster of Michael’s smile.

As Michael loosened his tie, Crowley had to reluctantly look away. He wanted to watch Michael do anything. Hell, Michael could stand still in an empty room for several hours and Crowley would be willing to watch. Watching, however, wasn’t going to get them anywhere tonight. “Would you like a drink?”

“Trying to get me drunk, Mr. MacLeod?” Michael chuckled, slipping an arm around the older man’s waist. “I can assure you, that’s not necessary.”

Crowley could suddenly feel just how much shorter he was than Michael, but really it was his presence that loomed over him. Crowley’s heart pounded in his ears, and he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with his hands. It was a far cry from his relationship with Dean, where he knew he was in control. With Michael, it felt like that power dynamic had shifted. Finally, he found the voice that had gotten lost in his throat. “What’s the plan for the night, then?” he choked out.

“Well, it dawned on me,” Michael purred, pulling Crowley a little closer, “that I still haven’t shown _you_ a good time.” He ran his hand down Crowley’s cheek and hooked a finger under his chin, guiding it up so their eyes met. “So why don’t we start with something simple? Do you have a safeword you’d like to use?”

Crowley’s brow raised in surprise. “Well, I’ll admit, I’m not used to this side of things,” he murmured. “I suppose, for now, we could just stick with the traffic light concept.”

Michael smirked and nodded. “Alright. So, green light for ‘more,’ red light for ‘stop.’ I think I can deal with that.” He dipped his head down and captured Crowley’s lips with his. It wasn’t quite as tender a kiss as the one they had shared a few nights ago, but Crowley wasn’t about to complain that a gorgeous man was kissing him with that much intensity.

Crowley’s arms slipped around Michael’s waist, but the younger man stepped back, a coy smirk on his face. “Not yet,” was all he said, but Crowley got the meaning. He held his hands up, and Michael embraced him once more, kissing him with so much passion, Crowley was struggling to keep his hands to himself.

Michael pressed Crowley against the wall of the foyer and used a single hand to pin his wrists above his head. He smirked, and Crowley realized how much trouble he could get into. Honestly, the thought of it was enough for his cock to start hardening. He dared to steal another kiss, but Michael stopped him and pulled back. “Disobeying orders is only going to get you punished.” His voice was little more than a growl, and, judging by the sudden tightness of his slacks, Crowley found it extremely arousing.

Crowley leaned his head back against the wall and watched Michael with hooded eyes. Michael, very slowly, leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. The older man kissed him back, his lips parting slightly as an invitation, which Michael accepted graciously. His eyes closed, Crowley felt Michael’s slick tongue slip into his mouth, and he groaned softly as the younger man’s tongue conquered his. His heart was pounding in his ears as Michael’s hands slid down his arms to his sides. Crowley knew well enough to keep his arms above his head.

Michael’s hands slid back up to Crowley’s collar and started to loosen his tie, unknotting it and slipping the tie from his collar with a soft ‘thwip’ of fabric. Crowley growled softly and he felt Michael smirk against his lips. Michael was unbuttoning his shirt _painfully_ slowly, and it was all he could do not to start begging Michael to speed it up. He knew this was all part of the game, which meant it was going to be worth it.

“You may lower your arms,” Michael purred, finally slipping Crowley’s shirt off his shoulders and down his arms, letting it fall to the ground. Crowley let out an undignified groan as Michael’s hands trailed down his torso to his waistband. His eyes fluttered shut as he felt the younger man fiddle with his belt. He couldn’t help but notice that Michael was still woefully clothed, but he knew better than to complain.

His eyes shut, all he knew were the sensations he felt as Michael continued to undress him. He kept his hands against the wall and rocked his hips needily toward Michael, but the younger man simply held his hips to encourage him to stop. It was only when he stilled his hips that Michael continued to unfasten his pants.

Soon enough, his pants had pooled around his ankles and his cock had slipped through the opening of his silk boxers, bobbing freely. He opened his eyes to a look of hunger on Michael’s face. Michael’s eyes had darkened with lust as he looked at Crowley’s massive length, and it was clear he was trying to figure out what his next move was going to be.

Crowley took a shot and pulled Michael into a passionate kiss, and to his surprise, Michael didn’t pull away to punish him. He seemed entirely distracted by the size of Crowley’s dick. He was taken enough by surprise, despite having seen it before, that he was thrown off kilter.

Eventually, though, Michael did regain himself and he grabbed a fistful of Crowley’s hair to break the kiss, smirking slightly. “Naughty, naughty,” he purred, sinking his teeth into Crowley’s neck. Crowley let out an almost strangled sound of pleasure that he tried to suppress.

Crowley let his eyes close again and lost himself in the feeling of Michael’s hands all over him. Before he could get used to it, the hands left him. He whined until he opened his eyes to see Michael removing his own clothes methodically. Crowley growled softly, watching with hungry eyes.

Michael’s eyes came up to meet Crowley’s, a smirk overtaking his face. His shirt slid off his shoulders and dropped to the floor, but he kept his pants on, something Crowley had to admit was a disappointment. Michael lowered himself to his knees, eyes staying locked on Crowley’s, and circled his tongue around Crowley’s tip. “Be good and stay still for me,” he purred.

Crowley growled and watched his entire length disappear into Michael’s mouth. He swore under his breath, even as his breath hitched in his throat. His hands opened and closed into fists as he tried to keep his hands to himself, but the urge was absolutely overwhelming to fist his hand into Michael’s perfectly tousled hair.

Michael began bobbing his head eagerly onto Crowley’s cock, and Crowley had the distinct feeling he was reveling in the sounds he made. Michael’s cheeks hollowed as he took a long drag on the dick in his mouth, pressing his tongue up against him. Crowley groaned loudly and started clawing at the wall behind him. “Please, let me touch you,” he growled pleadingly, voice shifting into a moan as Michael’s hands sought his out, silently giving him permission.

One of Crowley’s hands squeezed Michael’s, the other hand threading through Michael’s artfully messy hair. “Thank you,” he purred, groaning his pleasure. His hips bucked involuntarily as he neared his orgasm, and Michael suddenly pulled away. Crowley stared at him with the very definition of an incredulous look.

Michael chuckled and stood, kissing Crowley briefly. “Not many people deny you, do they?” he asked knowingly. “Don’t worry. You’ll be totally satisfied before I leave here tonight.” He kissed Crowley and led him to the couch, laying the older man down on his back. With the momentum of laying him down, Michael lifted Crowley’s legs up until he was in a very vulnerable position. One he certainly wasn’t used to. “Do me a favor and stay like that for a moment,” Michael whispered into Crowley’s ear. He disappeared back into the foyer and reappeared with a bottle of lube, presumably from his jacket pocket.

Crowley blinked and stared at Michael. “What are you planning to do with that, pray tell?” He lowered his legs and sat up on his elbows. Michael just chuckled and squirted a small amount onto his hand.

“I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you,” he teased. “You’re new at this, so I’m going to take it a little easier on you. We’re just going to do some light stuff. Do you trust me?”

Crowley blinked again, and nodded. “Of course I do.”

Michael smiled and lifted Crowley’s legs again, circling the tip of his finger around his entrance. Crowley growled softly and let his head fall back against the arm of the couch, cock twitching in need of being touched. With a smirk, Michael slid a finger past the tight ring of muscle, pulling a blissful noise from deep in Crowley’s throat. He pumped his finger into the older man almost tortuously slow, leaning down to kiss gently at Crowley’s chest.

Crowley’s fists opened and closed against the couch as he rocked his hips up to meet Michael’s hand. He mused for a moment that this must have been what Dean felt like basically every night. His entire body was aflame with bliss. Electricity crackled up his spine as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. When Michael slipped another finger into him, Crowley gasped and looked down at Michael’s smirking face. The bloody bastard knew exactly what he was doing, and he clearly enjoyed it. “Would you just fuck me already?” he asked, his hips twitching as his cock looked for any friction.

Michael laughed and pulled his hand free, unzipping his pants. “I’d be happy to,” he said in a low voice. From out of his pocket, he pulled a condom and rolled it down onto his hard cock. He slicked some of the contents of the bottle of lube onto his length and pressed the head of his dick against Crowley’s slightly loosened entrance. “Remember, ‘red’ for stop. If this isn’t comfortable for you, just let me know.”

“Shut up and fuck me already,” Crowley muttered. He wrapped his legs around Michael and grabbed him by the hair, pulling him down into a heated kiss. He broke the kiss quickly, though, as Michael pushed into him. The stretch, the fullness of Michael’s cock … it was almost too much to bear. Almost. Crowley crashed his lips into Michael’s again and angled his hips to allow him to slide deeper into him. Even Michael moaned softly at the sensation, and it was music to Crowley’s ears. “Green.”

Michael smirked against Crowley’s lips and slowly started to thrust into him, giving him a chance to get used to the sensation. It was so slow, however, that Crowley was already out of his mind. His fingers laced into the younger man’s hair and held him tight into the passionate kiss.

“Green,” Crowley muttered again.

Michael’s hips picked up speed, a thin layer of sweat starting to form on his flesh. Crowley, too, was starting to sweat, but he was sure he didn’t look as good as Michael did. Michael looked as though he was glowing, glistening under the incandescent light of the track lighting. “So good,” Michael breathed.

Crowley was, once again, nearing his edge, and his hips started to twitch, the dead giveaway that he wasn’t going to last much longer. “Green.” His voice was a whine now, but his inhibitions were long gone. He wasn’t sure he cared how pathetic he sounded. He wanted to come, and he wanted it to be Michael that drove him over the edge.

Michael must have known what he was thinking, because he leaned down and whispered into his ear, “Come for me.”

That was enough to send him toppling. Crowley’s release came, and came harder than he’d ever felt before. Stars danced across his vision as his release spilled over his chest in white, hot spurts. Michael’s hips stilled for a moment before erratically rutting against Crowley, and Crowley knew Michael’s climax must have hit.

Michael pulled away too soon and disappeared into the kitchen, returning shortly with a warm, damp cloth, gently wiping Crowley clean. He was sure to clean the cum out of his chest hair, leaning down and pressing gentle kisses to his chest. “You did beautifully,” he praised, moving up to press his lips tenderly against Crowley’s.

“That was …” Crowley wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. “That was … intense.” He swore to himself under his breath. That sounded stupid, he was sure. But, judging from the smile on Michael’s face, it wasn’t the wrong thing to say.

“I’ll make a switch out of you yet,” Michael teased.

“Is that a promise?” He smirked and kissed Michael again. He made himself sit up, even though all he wanted to do was fall asleep on the couch right there. “How much do I owe you?”

“$300,” Michael said in a surprisingly small voice. For a moment, it felt like both of them forgot what the arrangement was. If Crowley had just kept his mouth shut, he was sure he wouldn’t have felt like such an asshole. Bollocks.

“Would you mind? My wallet is in my trouser pocket.” He swung his legs off the edge of the couch, holding his head as his blood flow started to redirect itself again.

Michael got up and retrieved Crowley’s wallet, walking back to him and handing it over.

Crowley fished out five $100 bills and handed it over to Michael, offering a small smile.

“You’re giving me too much,” Michael offered, trying to be helpful.

“No, I’m not.” Crowley waved the money at Michael, in what he hoped was the least condescending way possible. “Take it. Honestly.”

Michael hesitated a moment, but eventually did take the money. “Thank you.”

“Take care of yourself, alright?” Crowley wanted to kiss Michael again, but something was stopping him. Nerves? Exhaustion? He wasn’t sure, but he watched as Michael stood up and redress himself.

Michael was about to open the door to head out when he stopped and looked at Crowley. Crowley’s heart began to flutter, and he flushed when Michael started walking closer to him. Before he knew what was going on, Michael had leaned in and kissed him passionately. “Don’t wait too long before you call me again,” he said with a chuckle. After another peck on the lips, he disappeared out the front door, leaving Crowley grinning like a Cheshire Cat.


	7. Sugar, We're Going Down

Last night was definitely worth repeating. Michael was sure of it. Despite everything else he had going on, the satisfaction of the previous night was possibly the only thing on his mind. The satisfaction of making Crowley make those delicious noises, and the memory of how much it had turned him on. He had never really been that turned on before in his life.

He was sure of it now. He was demisexual. Before, sex had just been a way to pass the time. A way to make money. But last night? He had _enjoyed_ it. For the first time in his life, he really enjoyed sex.

He just wished he knew for sure when he was going to see Crowley again. The last thing he wanted was to sacrifice his focus on his job because he was thinking about other shit.

As he pulled up to his client’s apartment building, he looked at his phone. He waffled back and forth about whether or not he wanted to text Crowley, or if he should just wait until he heard from him. He couldn’t remember the last time he was in this kind of situation. Hell, he wasn’t sure if such a time had existed for him. He was well within uncharted territory, after all.

He ultimately decided to wait, at least until he was done with this client. It wouldn’t have been polite to risk Crowley texting him back while he was working.

Decision made, he shut off the car and walked up to the apartment building door and pressed the doorbell to Naomi’s apartment. The door buzzed to let him in, and he stepped inside, heading up the stairs to knock on Naomi’s door.

She answered the door in a white dressing gown with light grey feathers trimming the sleeves. Michael had never particularly _liked_ Naomi, but her money was as good as anyone’s. He smirked his most dashing smirk and slid his arm around her, guiding her back inside. “What’s the plan for tonight?” he asked, sliding a hand up her side as the door closed behind them.

“Well, I only have an hour tonight. I thought you could show me what that tongue of yours can do.” She grinned and wrapped her arms around Michael, pulling him a little too close for his liking, but he smiled and scooped her up, off her feet.

“Well, let’s not waste any time,” he purred, carrying her off to the bedroom. As soon as the door shut, Naomi wiggled out of his arms and started feverishly undressing him. Michael put on a grin and let her do as she pleased, since he knew that ultimately, he was in charge.

There did come a point, however, that Michael had decided to assert himself. He pressed Naomi against the wall and sank his teeth into her neck. He dipped down and slipped his arms between her legs, hoisting her up onto his shoulders as he kissed his way down her body. As he lifted her up, he sank to his knees and pulled her robe open.

Naomi was _definitely_ prepared for him. She was completely bare under the dressing gown. He looked up at her and smirked, running his tongue along her wet slit. Naomi’s head fell back against the wall behind her as she keened, rolling her hips into him. Michael’s tongue circled her swollen bundle of nerves before taking the flesh into his mouth to suck gently.

Naomi groaned and ran a hand through his hair as his tongue delved into her, sliding in and out at a calculated pace. Her moans echoed through the room, her free hand clawing at the wall behind her. Michael withdrew his tongue to circle her clit again, bright blue eyes flicking up to watch the ecstasy on Naomi’s face as he worked her. His strong hands kneaded at her ass, pulling her hips closer at an angle that was a little easier on his neck. His tongue expertly swirled around her sensitive skin before he sucked gently on her, humming softly to send shockwaves up her body.

Her hand fisted tightly into his hair, yanking him closer, and Michael couldn’t help but idly think that if he got any closer, he might be inside her. Maybe that’s what she was after, but she was the one that had a time constraint. He was just trying to be a little sensitive to that.

Another few minutes later, Naomi was absolutely trembling under his touch. Before too long, she was quaking with her release, crying out with passion as Michael worked her through her release. Once fully sated, Naomi patted Michael on the head and chuckled. “I have to be getting ready for my appointment,” she said at last. “I hope you’re not expecting to be paid for the full hour.”

Michael chuckled, though really he was more disappointed than amused. Most of his other clients would have probably paid the full hour, but he couldn’t expect all of his clients to be decent folks. He set Naomi down on the floor and started to redress himself, despite his erection.

The woman closed her dressing gown and smirked, smacking Michael’s ass on the way to pick up her wallet. She thumbed through it and offered him $150. He accepted it, but he made a mental note to perhaps pass Naomi onto one of his coworkers as a client. He didn’t like her nearly enough to accept such a light payment. Regardless, he thanked her. “Have an excellent night,” he said, kissing her cheek and heading out the door.


	8. And One to Grow On

When Crowley got home, Dean was under the hood of the Impala. Dean hardly seemed to have noticed that Crowley had returned home, and Crowley could soon see why. He had earbuds in his ears, blasting Led Zeppelin. The older man chuckled and stepped out of his car, walking around to stand behind Dean, simply waiting for him to notice.

It took a few minutes, but Dean did feel the warmth of the other body behind him and almost hit his head as he whirled around to see his boyfriend looming.

“I thought I told you to take out the trash,” Crowley breathed, smirking.

“I don’t think I realized you were going to be home so early,” Dean muttered lamely, trying to come up with an excuse. Of course, he knew he wasn’t really in trouble, but it was no fun to play otherwise.

“Did you do the dishes?” Crowley stepped a little closer to Dean, until their hips were barely an inch apart.

“N-no, daddy.” Dean leaned a little further back, the back of his legs hitting the grill of the Impala. Crowley leaned in, smirking, hands on either side of Dean, resting against the car. “I, uhm … I didn’t make the bed, either.”

Crowley growled softly and leaned over Dean, arching his neck to kiss at the taller man’s neck. “You know what that means, don’t you?” One of his hands slid up Dean’s leg to rest on his hip, his other hand slithering up the inside of Dean’s thigh. “Naughty boys get a spanking.”

Dean shuddered, his hips involuntarily rocking into Crowley’s hand. “They do, don’t they?” He groaned softly and ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair, his green eyes seeking out his boyfriend’s brown orbs. “Don’t write checks my ass can’t cash,” he purred with a smirk. He pressed a kiss to Crowley’s lips and slid his free hand around his waist.

“I never do.” He chuckled and let his fingers drag up Dean’s hardening cock over his jeans. “Meet me in the bedroom. I’ll clean up.” He kissed Dean and made his way into the kitchen to start picking up.

It wasn’t a complete mess in the house, thankfully, so it didn’t take too long to straighten up the few messes Dean _had_ left. He tidied the kitchen and the living room before heading upstairs to the bedroom, where Dean was waiting for him.

Crowley watched the younger man slip his shirt off and toss it to the side, and Dean slowly glanced back to see him, finally seeming to notice he wasn’t alone. Dean smirked and Crowley smirked back, heading to the closet as he loosened his tie. “Assume the position, darling.”

When he emerged from the closet with a paddle in his hands, Dean swallowed dryly and wiggled his pants off. No sooner had he kicked his jeans to the other side of the room, than he bent over the bed, holding his bodyweight over his arms.

Crowley did take a moment to appreciate the sight, before raising the paddle behind him and swinging it to _smack_ against Dean’s backside. The _slap_ of wood against bare skin was simply intoxicating, as was the sound of Dean’s surprised groan.

“That all you got?” Dean chuckled, settling back into his relaxed position. His green eyes twinkled with mischief, and Crowley grinned.

“As a matter of fact, no.” Crowley reeled back and smacked Dean’s ass again, this time hard enough to cause Dean’s body to jerk forward a little. Dean groaned, gripping the blankets tightly. Crowley didn’t give him a warning the next time. Or the time after that. He just kept swinging the paddle until Dean’s ass was a dark pink from irritation. “Good boy,” he purred, setting the paddle down and stepping closer to kiss at Dean’s shoulders and neck. “There, now. How do you feel?”

“I feel awesome,” Dean smirked and let himself collapse on the bed. He seemed particularly pleased with himself as Crowley got him a little more tucked into bed. Crowley could feel those green eyes on him as he started to undress for the night, but he had to admit, it wasn’t an unwelcome feeling.

“Can I get anything for you, darling?” he asked, leaning over to kiss Dean sweetly.

“A drink might be nice, daddy.” Dean snuggled further into the mattress and pulled the covers up under his chin. “And can I have Alice?”

Crowley smiled and nodded, kissing Dean’s forehead. “Of course, love.” He walked over to the bar cart and poured both of them a glass of his top shelf scotch. Setting Dean’s glass on his nightstand, he returned to the closet and reemerged with a well-loved, white teddy bear with black diamonds around its eyes, wearing an Alice Cooper tour shirt. He lovingly handed it over to Dean and smirked as he slipped under the covers next to him.

Before he’d even gotten settled, Dean’s hands were all over him. He purred, about to insist that they just get some sleep, but his thoughts were derailed by Dean’s lips against his own. “Let me take care of you, daddy,” the younger man murmured against his lips.

“Are you sure your arse can take much more of a pounding?” Crowley teased, but Dean was already straddling him. He could already feel his blood rushing through his cock as his boyfriend worked him with his hand. A moan escaped his throat, but was quickly stifled by Dean’s mouth. He purred softly and slid his hands up Dean’s legs to rest on his hips, rocking his own up to meet them.

Dean slid his tongue along Crowley’s bottom lip, beckoning Crowley to invade his mouth. Crowley did so, happily, and reached over to the nightstand, grabbing their bottle of lube and squirting a small amount onto his hand. He slicked himself and pressed his length against Dean’s entrance. Dean groaned softly and pulled back just enough from the kiss for his green eyes to meet Crowley’s brown. “Please, fuck me, daddy.”

Crowley smirked and kissed his boyfriend again. “I do think you deserve a nice reward for being such a good boy,” he purred, eyes darkening slightly with lust. “Now, do me a favor, and make plenty of noise for daddy.” Without any other warning, he pushed past Dean’s tight ring of muscle, drawing out the most delicious sound from the younger man’s throat.

Dean moved slowly at first. It always took him a moment or two to adjust to Crowley’s size. Soon, though, he was riding his boyfriend, moaning with ardor with every movement of Crowley’s hips.

Crowley dug his fingers into Dean’s hips tightly enough that the skin under his fingertips turned white. The younger man choked back a cry of pleasure, and Crowley smacked his ass once more to reprimand him. “Don’t hold back, daring,” he growled. He could see Dean’s cock twitch, begging to be touched, but Dean was too busy trying to steady himself against the rocking of his boyfriend’s hips to be able to give himself that kind of attention.

Before Dean could stop him, Crowley rolled them to the side, pinning Dean down on his back. He pressed a hand down on his boyfriend’s chest and reached between the two of them to start stroking Dean’s length, not quite at the same pace his hips moved. Dean’s hips bucked into his hand, pleas for more being drowned by his moans of pleasure.

Crowley groaned and pushed into Dean harder, hips snapping forward. Dean was slowly sliding up the mattress from the force of Crowley’s hips, but the older man’s hand in his hair stopped the slow crawl toward the headboard. The arrhythmic pace brought Dean to the edge and pulled him back again and again and again, and Crowley delighted in the whines that pealed through the air.

“Daddy… let me- Ahh~ … Let me …” Dean was having a hard time finishing his sentence, but Crowley knew what he was trying to say.

“Come for me, dove,” he purred, stroking his lover’s cock at the same pace that his hips moved at. On cue, Dean’s release hit him, covering him with sticky, white spurts of cum. Crowley grit his teeth, the sight of his boyfriend writhing and twitching under him sending him over his own edge. He came hard, filling Dean. He continued to work Dean with his hand to help him ride out his climax, leaning down to capture his boyfriend’s lips in a kiss.

When both of them were spent, Crowley got up and walked to the adjacent bathroom, grabbing a damp wash cloth and returning to the bed to clean Dean off a bit. Dean purred under the attention he was receiving and, once he was less messy, pulled Crowley into a kiss.


	9. Please, Sir, May I Have Some More?

Crowley had scarcely been able to get Michael out of his head for the past few days. As much as he loved Dean, and he did love Dean, he was starting to feel a certain way about Michael. It wasn’t quite the same as what he felt for Dean, but it was growing more powerful. It was overtaking his mind. More than that, it was invading his very being.

He thought about him on the way to work, while he was at work, on the way home from work, and every second in between. It was almost maddening, but Crowley had decided to at least partially give in to these feelings.

Once he got home that evening, he withdrew his phone and took a deep breath, battling a sudden bout of nerves. It was supposed to be his night with Michael, but he didn’t know if Michael was free. Michael had been busy all this week, and Crowley desperately wanted to see him. He idly twirled his phone around his fingers for a moment before taking another, deeper breath and working through his nerves.

_Can you come over tonight? –C_

Well, that was kind of painful, and he was sure he could have thought of something more fun to say, but when it came to Michael? His brain just tended to flatline. He plopped down onto the couch and let his head fall back. Resting his head on the back of the couch, he shut his eyes and waited for the inevitable, ‘No.’

What was he even doing? Dean may have greenlit the polyamorous relationship, but he still had no idea if that’s even what Michael wanted. He barely knew anything about the other man, other than he was really good in bed. 10 years ago, that might have been all Crowley needed to know, but he was 40 now. Things had changed. He didn’t just want to get laid. He wanted to be happy.

He waited too long for a text he was now sure wasn’t coming and headed up the stairs to take a shower. Dean was nowhere to be seen, and the Impala wasn’t in the garage. He was home alone, for the first time in as long as he could remember. His heart sank a little, but he went through his ritual of removing his clothes all the same. First, unknotting his gray tie and hanging it back in the closet on the tie rack. Then, slipping his sport coat off and laying it on the back of the armchair. Next, his belt, shoes, and socks. After that, his pants, then his shirt, then his boxers.

He stretched and headed to the adjacent bathroom, letting the hot water pour from the shower head a moment before stepping into the stream. He let the water pour over him, humming from the sensation of the warmth spreading over him.

It was about the time he was rinsing the shampoo out of his hair that he heard a knock at the door. Dean probably lost his house key again. Crowley sighed and turned the water off, stepping out of the shower and into the steamy air. Reaching for a towel, he heard the knock on the door again. “I’m on my way!” He shouted, though he probably wouldn’t hear. He wrapped the towel around his waist and quickly ran a towel over his head to soak up most of the moisture.

He hung the second towel up on the towel rack and headed downstairs. Whoever was at the door had taken to ringing the doorbell. Crowley swore to himself and finally opened the door once he’d reached it.

The person that stood on the other side of the threshold, however, was not who he was expecting to see.

“Michael?” he asked in complete shock.

Michael smiled that heartwarming smile and Crowley happened to catch the young man’s eyes wandering. Those beautiful blue eyes flicked back up to meet Crowley’s, and Michael chuckled. “Sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t sure if you were home.”

Crowley blinked his shock away and finally stepped to the side. “Please, come in!” He didn’t bother looking behind Michael to see if anyone was looking. Truthfully he didn’t care enough. He walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. “I … uhm … I don’t have anything prepared. I wasn’t sure if you were coming or not.”

“Why wouldn’t I have come?” Michael asked, stepping around the kitchen’s island to lean gently against the door of the fridge. “It’s my night off!”

Crowley looked up at Michael in surprise. “It’s your night off? If you don’t mind me asking, what the hell are you doing here on your night off?”

Michael’s face flushed just slightly enough that it was almost imperceptible. “Well, I wanted to spend time with you. Off the clock.” He awkwardly sucked his lip between his teeth and bit his lower lip. If Crowley didn’t know better, he might think that the kid was nervous. He sure as hell knew he was. “That’s alright, isn’t it?”

Crowley only just realized his mouth was hanging open, and he quickly shook himself out of his daze. Michael wanted to spend time with _him?_ That was hard to believe, but he’d do his best. “That’s perfectly alright,” he said at last. “What did you want to do?”

“I’d like to do whatever it is you wanted to do when you texted me,” he said, almost sheepishly. His on the clock persona clearly had more confidence than he had in everyday life. Maybe not _much_ more confidence, but enough that it was noticeable.

Crowley swallowed thickly and shut the fridge door. He was using it as a distraction anyway. No reason to keep it open. His brow furrowed slightly as he screwed his face up in thought. He hadn’t actually had anything planned when he had texted Michael, nor did he have any idea what he wanted. Maybe that was one of the reasons he felt so strongly for the young escort. Whenever he was around, Crowley was at a complete loss. It was unnerving and refreshing all at the same time.

Michael took a step toward him and ran a hand up Crowley’s bare arm. “So… What did you have in mind?” he asked.

“I didn’t,” Crowley confessed, looking pitifully up at Michael. “I have no idea what I wanted. I just wanted to see you.” When Michael smirked softly, Crowley could feel his lips tug upward in a mirroring smirk. “I suppose we could start with leftovers and a movie and see where the evening takes us?”

Michael’s crooked smile cracked as he chuckled, nose wrinkling adorably as he tried to compose himself. “I think that sounds wonderful,” he agreed. “What kind of leftovers do you have?”

“Little bit of everything. Italian, Chinese, Peruvian, some kind of noodle thing, and pizza.” When Crowley looked up, he caught the briefest glimpse of a tender smile on Michael’s face, but it vanished quickly. “Any of that sound good to you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I’ll have the noodle thing.” Michael smiled again and took the Tupperware, crossing over to the microwave to help himself to the appliance. As he set the dish in the microwave, he looked back at Crowley, who was trying to pretend he wasn’t staring. “What movie did you want to watch?” Well, at least he was playing it cool.

Crowley thought a moment, but decided against picking a movie for himself. He usually picked the movies, but Michael was a guest. “Maybe we could watch something on Netflix?” He smiled and nodded toward the living room and the couch. “You go on ahead and get something going. I’ll bring the food out when it’s ready.”

Michael beamed and scampered off to plop down onto the couch, leaving Crowley alone with his thoughts while the microwave ran.

Once he was alone in the kitchen, he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. His heart was thumping in his chest. He touched his forehead and discovered he was actually sweating. He must have been a sight. He pulled the Peruvian food from the fridge and set it next to the microwave. He heard the familiar clicking on Netflix as Michael scrolled through the menus, idly wondering what kind of movie he’d pick.

His thoughts were interrupted by the beeping of the microwave. He jolted slightly, having not expected the appliance to jerk him out of his thoughts, and opened the microwave door to check on the noodles. They seemed to be warm enough. “What would you like to drink?” he called out.

“Oh, whatever you’re having will be fine,” Michael called back. He glanced over the back of the couch to peer into the kitchen, smiling. “You want I should get the movie started? Or would you rather I wait until you’ve got your food heated up too?”

“Go ahead,” Crowley answered with a chuckle. “I’ll only be another minute or two.” He placed his dish into the microwave and carried Michael’s out to the living room for him. “What did you decide to put on?” he asked, glancing up at the screen.

“The King’s Speech,” he answered. Michael leaned forward to take the Tupperware from Crowley’s hand and almost immediately dove into the noodles. His eyes widened and he groaned softly from the taste, smirking. After he swallowed his food, he looked up at Crowley. “This is delicious. Where did you get it?”

“I made it,” Crowley said, rather proudly.

“No way!” Michael was stunned. “You cook, too?” Crowley nodded and Michael beamed. That warm smile of his was enough to melt Crowley into a puddle of goo. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

Crowley smirked and shook his head. With a wink, he said, “No,” and returned to the kitchen just in time for the microwave to beep. He listened to the classical music playing from the sound bar under the tv, and mused to himself that he might not have expected someone like Michael to want to watch a period drama like The King’s Speech. That boy was full of surprises, it seemed.

When he returned to the living room again, he carried his own food and two glasses of red wine. He set them carefully on the coffee table and nestled down into the couch next to Michael. He had been apprehensive about walking around in a bath towel, but Michael didn’t seem to mind, so he tried not to think too much about it.

They ate and watched in relative silence, until they were done eating and they felt they could start talking again. Michael was the first to speak up, just about the time Geoffrey rush started trying to entertain his children with Shakespeare, and he leaned against Crowley and sighed peacefully. “I love that Helena Bonham Carter isn’t totally insane in this movie.”

Crowley blinked, but smirked and nodded. “She does tend to play weird roles, doesn’t she?”

“Bellatrix Lestrange, Mrs Lovett, that one girl in Fight Club. Shit, what was her name?” He snapped his fingers as he thought, then finally it came to him. “Marla!” The two of them shared a chuckle and Michael took a sip from his wine glass. “I dunno. I guess I just think it’s refreshing to see her play someone normal.”

“I might have to agree with you.” Crowley absently rested his arm on the back of the couch. He hadn’t realized what it looked like he was doing until Michael gently leaned against him, resting his head against Crowley’s chest. Looking straight at the TV, Crowley felt his cheeks start to burn with a blush, but he somehow managed to maintain composure. After a moment, he lowered his arm to drape across Michael’s shoulders, smirking down at him. “Comfy?”

“Very,” he purred. Michael slid an arm around Crowley and held him like a teddy bear.

It was all so … tender. Crowley wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He wasn’t watching the movie anymore, but he was watching Michael watch the movie. He raised a hesitant hand and threaded his fingers through the younger man’s hair. He had to know if this was even something Michael wanted, or if Michael was just being polite. He cleared his throat to get Michael’s attention and mulled over the words he wanted to say. “May I ask you a question?” he asked.

“Hm?” Michael looked up at him, concern etched in his face. “What’s up?”

“I just …” Crowley glanced away and took a sip of his wine, setting it down on the side table. “I wanted to know if you’d like to do this kind of thing on a more … semi-permanent basis?” Following the blank look he received from Michael, he ran his fingers through his still moist hair and let out a deep sigh. “You know … what I mean is … I like you. I like this. I like the time we spend together, and-“

“Yeah.”

“Yeah what?”

“Yeah, I’d like to do this more often.” Michael smiled and scooted a little closer to him. “You sure Dean won’t mind?”

Crowley smiled a little easier. “He actually suggested it.” Alright, it was a half truth, but it wasn’t all the way invalid. Michael smirked and scooted just a little closer to him, and Crowley was starting to feel quite warm. He was almost sure his entire body was blushing from the closeness, and he couldn’t figure out why. “So, does that make it official?”

“I think it does.”

“May I kiss you?”

Michael beamed and leaned up to kiss Crowley. It was a kiss reminiscent of the kiss they’d shared that first night, and Crowley was brought right back to that moment. For those few seconds, nothing in the world mattered but them.

Crowley kissed him back, resting his hand on the nape of Michael’s neck to entice him further into the kiss. When Michael pressed up against him a little more, Crowley pushed back until they were both sitting up. He brushed his thumb across Michael’s cheek and pulled away from the kiss just briefly enough to murmur, “What do you want me to do?”

Michael smirked against his lips and ran his hands down Crowley’s chest and sides to rest on the towel. “I want you to do everything I say, without question. Is that clear?”

“Crystal.” Crowley smirked and let his hand slide down Michael’s still woefully clothed chest.

Michael pressed kisses along Crowley’s jawline, leading up to his ear. “Follow me to the bedroom.” Without looking, he held up the remote and shut the TV off. Crowley growled softly as Michael got to his feet and took his hand. The younger man led Crowley up the stairs and down the hall into the bedroom. Once the door closed behind them, he turned and pressed Crowley against the door. “I want you to undress me.”

Crowley shivered slightly and slid his hands reverently up Michael’s torso, bringing the hem of his perfectly steamed button down up to untuck his shirt. His hands slid further up to the top button, slipping it through the hole to unbutton it. “May I kiss you?” he asked again, his voice barely more than a raspy whisper.

“Not on the lips,” Michael purred softly, “not yet. But yes.”

Crowley leaned in and started to kiss at Michael’s jawline, slowly unbuttoning his shirt with tremendous care not to wrinkle the fabric in any way. Once the shirt was unbuttoned about halfway, he trailed a few kisses down to his neck, gently nipping at his pulse point. He finished unbuttoning the shirt and pushed it off of Michael’s shoulders, letting it fall to the ground as he started to unbuckle Michael’s belt. With a soft _thwip_ of fabric, he pulled the belt free and dropped it to the side.

Crowley must have been taking too long, because Michael grabbed him and guided him over to the bed. The back of his legs hit the edge of the bed and sent him toppling over hard enough that his towel slipped off. Not that it was much of a secret before, with just a towel covering him, but he was already hard.

Michael smirked and made quite a show of undoing his pants, eyes taking in the view of Crowley sprawled out before him. Crowley had to admit he wasn’t used to feeling quite this vulnerable, but it was a nice change of pace.

He watched Michael walk around to the nightstand to grab the bottle of lube from the drawer. When Michael walked back to the end of the bed to stand over Crowley, he smirked and ran his hands up Crowley’s thighs, the lube bottle sitting to the side of Crowley for now. “I’m going to make you beg,” he said, matter-of-factly.

Hearing the words come from Michael’s mouth, Crowley’s cock twitched with need. He nodded to show he understood, but the words caught in his throat.

Michael squirted a small amount of lube onto his fingers and slicked them, pressing two fingers through Crowley’s tight ring of muscle. His fingers moved to locate the other man’s prostate, and he must have found it because Crowley groaned loudly, his cock twitching once again with want. Crowley’s hips rolled back onto Michael’s hand, fucking himself down onto him until Michael pressed a hand to his hip. “Stay still,” he commanded. “Let me do all the work. I’ll let you know when you can move again.”

Crowley whined and tried to keep himself still, but the way Michael’s fingers moved inside him, it was hard to focus on anything but the growing need to be fucked. When Michael’s free hand closed around his cock, Crowley tried to bite back a groan. His sense of pride commanded that he hold back, but Michael commanded that he let loose. He barely heard the words Michael said, but the noises came freely from his throat.

The more noise he made, the less control he seemed to have over himself. He balled his fists up into the sheets and cried out. “Michael~!” A moan cut off his plea before he had a chance to vocalize it. His eyes opened and met Michael’s, unable to stifle a moan when he saw how dark with lust Michael’s blue eyes were.

“Use your words, Crowley,” Michael chuckled, a grin threatening to split his face.

“M-Michael~ … Please … Please, fuck me.” Crowley let his head fall back against the mattress, crying out his pleasure.

But it wasn’t enough. Michael slowed his movements, working Crowley almost painfully slow. “Not yet,” he said. “I want to feel like you want it.”

“I want it, I want it!” Crowley tried to rock his hips into Michael’s hand again, but the younger man withdrew both hands and smirked.

“How much do you want it?”

“MICHAEL, PLEASE FUCK ME,” he half shouted, half whined.

That seemed to satisfy Michael. Still, he took his time as Crowley writhed on the bed, unwrapping a condom, rolling it down onto his dick, squirting a little more lube out into his hand and slicking his length with it. Before Crowley knew what was happening, hands pinned his wrists to the bed. Michael’s hips spread Crowley’s legs, and the older man wrapped his legs around him. Lips crashed together as Michael buried himself in Crowley’s heat, and Crowley purred as he finally felt the fullness of Michael’s cock.

He wanted to grab a fistful of Michael’s hair and pull him deeper into the kiss, but the hands pinning his wrists prevented that. He growled his frustration and sucked Michael’s bottom lip into his mouth, gripping it with his teeth.

Michael growled softly and shoved his tongue through Crowley’s lips to invade his mouth, his hips rocking almost feverishly into Crowley. Michael grunted with every snap of his hips, groaning softly against Crowley’s mouth.

Crowley let his eyes flutter shut and surrendered himself to every sensation. Every thrust he felt sent jolts of electricity up his spine, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Feeling Michael’s body bent over him, allowing him to frot against him, knowing that Michael wanted to be there as much as he wanted him to be there.

Truthfully, neither of them lasted much longer. Crowley’s whole body tensed as his release washed over him, tightening around Michael who came hard. They stilled and rode out their orgasms, Michael finally collapsing next to Crowley with a stupid grin on his face.

“What’s the look for?” Crowley asked. He didn’t even have to look at Michael to know what kind of smile might be on his face.

“I just really enjoy my time with you,” he said, almost sweetly. “I can’t think of another way I’d rather spend my night off.”

Crowley smirked and wrapped an arm around Michael’s shoulders, bringing him closer. Michael happily laid his head on Crowley’s chest and slid his arms around him. They needed to be cleaned up, but neither of them wanted to move right that moment. They were content to just lay with each other, basking in the afterglow.

Though, of course, there were still words they didn’t want to say. Not yet. Not until the right time. Unspoken as they were, each trusted the other to know what was on their mind.


	10. What A Good Boy

By the time Dean got back from his trip the next day, Michael had already gone to work. But now it was Crowley’s turn to have a day off, and he was spending it the way he usually did: Watching serial killer documentaries for possible the quadrillionth time. Today’s feature was about the Werewolf of Wisteria, Albert Fish.

Dean came up behind him and kissed his cheek, glancing at the TV. “Who you watchin’ today?” he asked, sliding his arms down Crowley’s chest to wrap around him.

“Albert Fish.” He ran his hands up Dean’s arms and looked up at him, beaming. “How was your trip?” He brought one of Dean’s hands up to his mouth and gently kissed it.

“That creep again?” Dean swung his leg over the back of the couch and slid down to sit next to his boyfriend. “I’ll never understand your fascination with that guy. Didn’t he eat kids or some shit?”

“It was just the one kid, actually.” Crowley smirked and held Dean closer, kissing the side of his head. “How was Sam?”

Dean smirked back and nuzzled into Crowley’s arms. “Sam’s fine. He’s passing all his classes, so I don’t have to kick his ass.” Leaning his head against Crowley’s shoulder, he breathed a soft sigh and made himself comfortable. “What did you do while I was gone?”

Crowley grabbed the Netflix remote and paused the special he was watching in favor of curling up with his boyfriend. “I had Michael over,” he said a little dismissively. “Aside from that, nothing too special happened.”

If Dean had even the slightest hint of disappointment on his face, Crowley must have missed it. All he saw was the smile on his boyfriend’s face that must have meant he was glad he had a good time. Though, of course, Crowley was sensitive enough to the situation not to go into details. Dean leaned up and kissed Crowley before settling back down to lay his head in Crowley’s lap. “So, what do you want to do tonight?”

“Same thing we do every night,” Crowley teased. “As long as you’re in the mood for it.” Dean chuckled, a good sign, and nestled into Crowley’s lap. “You deserve it, after all.”

Dean looked up at Crowley, almost surprised. He wasn’t always amazed at how unpredictable Crowley could be, but when it came to signs of true affection, Crowley’s track record was not spectacular. It didn’t particularly bother Dean, lord knows he was as terrible at showing feelings as Crowley was, but then again, expecting it made moments like this one feel a little more insignificant. “What makes you say that?” Dean asked, lips curling into a smirk.

“You’ve been so patient with me,” he replied, “and I don’t think I show you how much I appreciate it nearly enough.” Crowley ran his hand through Dean’s short, messy hair. Despite everything he felt for Michael, he did really love Dean. Every once in a while, he would get an urge, like this one, and feel the need to show him exactly how much he loved him.

Dean sat up and looked at Crowley, smirk tugging into a grin. “You know, I might get used to you being so nice to me.”

“You should get used to it. You deserve nothing less than the best intentions.” Crowley meant what he said, and he fully believed he wasn’t the one to be able to give Dean everything he needed. The fact that Dean was so willing to stay with him would always astound him. “You deserve so much more than I can give you, Dean,” he said sincerely. “You don’t deserve what you’ve been through. I wish I could give you everything you needed, but I don’t have that kind of power.”

“Crowley, you do more than enough to make me happy,” Dean reassured him. “I love you, no matter what.” They shared a tender kiss before Dean pulled back and smirked again. “But I’m gonna have to ask you to keep talking.”

Crowley chuckled and brushed his thumb against Dean’s cheek, bringing him back into a kiss for a brief moment before leaning back against the arm of the couch, beckoning Dean to join him in laying down. “I think you’re remarkable.” Dean scoffed, but Crowley smiled. “I mean it. You amaze me, endlessly.”

Dean wasn’t usually the kind of person to blush, as Crowley knew well, but Dean was bright red. Crowley was, unfortunately, all too aware of how Dean’s self-esteem issues and he wanted so badly to cure him of them. He knew he’d never quite convince Dean he was worthy of life, but perhaps he could convince him that he was worthy of love.

Crowley dipped his head down and started to kiss at Dean’s neck. “You’re so much better than you give yourself credit for. I just wish you could see yourself through my eyes. Maybe then you could see how amazing you really are.”

Without warning, Dean was straddling him there on the couch. Crowley growled lowly, resting his hands on the taller man’s hips. Dean leaned down and kissed at Crowley’s neck. “Say more, daddy,” he purred.

Crowley hummed softly, already feeling his blood changing direction. He rocked his hips up into Dean’s and took note that Dean was every bit as hard as Crowley was. “My darling boy,” he cooed, guiding Dean’s hips to frot against him. “What would you like me to do for you? Anything you want, it’s yours.”

Dean was evidently trying to think, but his mind was focused on his boyfriend and every sensation he was receiving. After a few failed attempts at trying to speak, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I want you…”

“Mhm?” Crowley gently bit at Dean’s neck and ran his hands up his back.

“I just want you.” Dean shivered under Crowley’s hands and mouth, raking his fingers down his boyfriend’s sides. “You take such good care of me… Let me take care of you, too.”

Crowley found it hard to argue with that, especially when he was feeling a little … anxious. He sat up suddenly, almost toppling back over from the weight of Dean’s torso against his. “Anywhere specific you’d like to take care of me?” he purred.

“How about your study?” Dean bit at Crowley’s earlobe. Crowley shivered slightly as he felt the vibrations of Dean’s voice send shivers down his spin. “I’ve always wanted a hot teacher type to bend me over and fuck me over a desk.”

Crowley couldn’t help but chuckle as he set a foot down on the floor to prepare to stand. “Well, we certainly aren’t getting anywhere just sitting here.”

Dean hopped up and strutted toward the study, glancing back at Crowley as he opened the door. He shut the door partway behind him and disappeared into the darkness.

Crowley grinned and followed him, starting to unbutton the top button of his shirt. “Are we going full roleplay with this scenario? Or is this just a location thing?” When he opened the door, he quickly got his answer. Dean was leaning back against the desk, his jeans unfastened and unzipped, his cock bulging through his boxers, tip of his dick just slightly exposed over the waistband of his boxers. In an instant, Crowley fell into character, wearing that sly smirk he knew would drive Dean wild. “Well, well, well, Mr. Winchester. To what do I owe the surprise?”

“I think I may need some extra credit this semester,” Dean cooed.

“Mr. Winchester, I think you underestimate yourself.” Crowley walked a little closer to his boyfriend, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. “If you would just apply yourself, you could do amazing things.”

Dean hiked himself up and sat on the desk, leaning forward a bit with a smirk. “And how would you suggest I do that?”

Crowley closed the distance between them and ran his hands up Dean’s thighs, leaning in to drink in his warmth and his musk. “I could think of a couple of ways, if I’m not being too forward.” His lips pressed against Dean’s gently. “Why don’t you _lay it all out_ for me and we’ll _fill in_ where we need to?”

Dean hummed softly against Crowley’s lips, capturing them in a kiss once more. “I’d be happy to let you _fill in_ any time.” He slid off the desk and let his jeans drop around his knees. Crowley kissed him deeply and held his hips against himself, slowly sliding his hands up Dean’s sides to pull him closer. Dean ran his hands through Crowley’s hair and stepped out of his jeans.

Crowley, however, guided Dean down to his knees and grinned. “First, why don’t you perform your oral examination?”

Dean smirked and undid Crowley’s fly. Crowley watched Dean with lust-darkened eyes, watching his length almost entirely disappear into his lover’s mouth. With a groan, he slowly started to rock his hips, moaning softly as Dean swallowed around him. He watched the younger man’s cheeks hollow as he sucked deeply. When Dean looked up at him with those beautiful green eyes, Crowley let his head fall back, eyes fluttering shut with passion.

Without warning, Crowley stood Dean, swung him around, and bent him over the desk, pulling his boxers down until they pooled at his ankles. Dean smirked and glanced back at his boyfriend, wiggling his ass temptingly. Crowley chuckled and undid his pants. “Why don’t you reach into the top left drawer and grab the bottle that’s in there for me, love?” Dean did as he was told and Crowley slicked himself. “Are you ready, darling?” When Dean nodded breathlessly, Crowley buried himself to the hilt in his heat.

Dean groaned loudly and dug his nails into the desk. Crowley bent down and kissed at Dean’s shoulder blades, slowly rocking his hips into him. “My good boy,” he purred, peppering small kisses to his lover’s back. He whispered soft words of encouragement and love into his flesh. As Dean squeaked out a whine of bliss, Crowley reached and took Dean’s length in his hand. He stroked him at the same, almost tender pace that his hips moved at.

He was quickly losing himself in the passion of the moment, even as he decided to slow his pace considerably. He wanted to enjoy it, and he could tell Dean was enjoying it as much as he was. With every word of praise he uttered, he felt Dean’s cock twitch closer and closer to climax. Crowley was quickly reminded why he hardly ever made love in this position: He wanted to see his lover’s face when he brought them to release.

He pulled back and rolled Dean onto his back, entering him once more as he pulled his boyfriend into a passionate kiss. One hand rested on the nape of Dean’s neck, and the other slid down and hiked his lover’s thigh up onto his hip. Crowley pushed into him a little more feverishly, to get the two of them to the point they were at, and stroked Dean’s cock with ardor.

Crowley pressed their chests together, groaning from the sensation of skin on skin. Dean breathed softly against Crowley’s lips, and the two shared another, more passionate kiss. They rutted together until Crowley’s release spilled into Dean, his hips bucking as he rode it out. With each desperate thrust, Dean’s climax neared. Finally, Crowley felt Dean’s warm cum spurting onto his bare chest, and he almost melted from the feeling.

When they were both spent, Crowley leaned in and kissed Dean’s neck, burying his face into the crook of his neck. “I meant every word I said, you know.” He could feel Dean crane his neck to look at him, but he didn’t move. “I think you deserve much better than me.”

Dean frowned and held Crowley tightly, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “We might have to agree to disagree,” he half joked. “I love _you_.”

Crowley pulled back and managed a small smile. “I love you too. No matter what.”


	11. Why Buy the Cow When You Can Get Milked For Free?

Dean walked through the door with an unusually shit-eating grin on his face. Crowley was used to seeing him looking pleased with himself, but this was a strange look, even for him.

Crowley looked back at his newspaper, only barely looking up at Dean. “Dare I ask what brought about this sudden mood?”

Dean slid his arms around Crowley from behind and kissed his neck. “I’ve got a surprise for you!” he purred. “I was thinking about how it didn’t seem fair that I spend so much time with my family, and you hardly see yours.”

Crowley’s face dropped, along with the newspaper he was holding. No. Dean couldn’t be saying what he thought he was saying.

“So, I set up a dinner reservation at that French place you like, and I found your mom!”

“… When you say you found my mum,” Crowley said softly, dangerously. He wasn’t meeting Dean’s eyes, choosing instead to stare straight ahead. “Do you mean you found her in a ditch? Or…?”

Dean’s smile faltered just slightly, as though he was just starting to realize this was, perhaps, not his best idea. “N-No? I mean … I found her on facebook and I sent her a message. She wants to get dinner with us! Isn’t … Isn’t that great?”

Crowley stood and took a deep, steadying breath, letting it out in a low growl. “Tell me, Dean… Do you ever let _thoughts_ pass through that thick skull of yours? Because I can’t rationalize why you would go behind my back like this to set up a dinner I never asked for.”

Dean’s brow furrowed as he took a step closer to Crowley. “What are you trying to say?”

“Apparently not,” Crowley growled. “Why do _you_ think I don’t speak to my mother? It’s not just because I hate her.”

Dean tried not to look indignant, but he failed. If it wasn’t just because he hated his mother, he could only come up with one other reason. “You don’t think I should meet your mother, do you?”

Crowley laughed. “Absolutely not.”

Dean’s face turned red, and Crowley could tell he was close to a meltdown. If he wasn’t toeing that line himself, he might have tried to reassure Dean that it wasn’t him. But Dean didn’t give him the chance. “And why the fuck NOT? You’ve met MY family! I think we’re at the stage in our relationship where we should be able to consider each other family. Don’t you?”

“What?” Crowley grit his teeth. He wasn’t one to just take being yelled at, and he certainly wasn’t going to take it from Dean. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. THAT’S what you think this is about?!”

“What else COULD it be about?” Dean shouted. “You either don’t take our relationship seriously, or you’re ashamed of me.” He stopped and looked at Crowley. He was clearly working himself up. “Are you _ashamed_ of me?

“Are you _that_ daft? REALLY?” Crowley grit his teeth, practically hissing at Dean. “Are you being serious? Because I’m having a hard time believing this is happening.”

“Just answer the question, Crowley,” he said in an annoyingly sing-song voice. “If you’re not ashamed of me, there’s no reason not to introduce me to your mother!”

“I don’t want to introduce you to my mother because she’s a monster!” Crowley’s voice rose with every word until he was shouting. “You don’t _know_ her like I do. If she finds out how well off I am, she’ll mooch off of me until the day I die! Not to mention, by the way, that she would jump you the first chance she got.”

“Oh, bullshit,” Dean growled. “No-one’s parents are _that_ bad!”

“You don’t know Rowena MacLeod,” he growled back. “We are _not_ getting dinner with that witch, and that’s final!” Crowley turned to walk into the kitchen, but stopped when he heard the next words out of Dean’s mouth.

“I bet you’d take your _whore_ to meet your mother.”

Crowley’s fists clenched so hard, he could feel blood trickling down his hand. “I beg your pardon?” He slowly turned back around to look at Dean. “My tinnitus must be acting up, because I don’t think I heard what you said.”

“I said, I bet you’d take your _WHORE_ to meet your mother.” Dean, though he was still angry, was starting to lose confidence in his argument. But, then, he was never the type to back down from a fight.

Crowley went quiet. Dangerously so. He strolled over to Dean and slapped him across the face. Hard. If looks could kill, Dean would have been a dead man. Being that he was still breathing, though, he seemed to have realized what he said. But there was no taking it back now. “If you ever so much as _think_ those words again, it’ll be a closed fist. Is that clear?” Dean was, apparently, speechless. Crowley slipped his blazer on and reached for his car keys. He was trying to calm himself down before things got worse. “I’m going out … for some air,” he said, “and I will not be back … for many days.”

Storming out the door, Crowley clicked his key fob to unlock his Cadillac, and he didn’t stop until he was in the car. He slammed his hand down on the wheel, trying to work some of his anger out. He wasn’t sure where he was going to go, but he knew he had to get out of the house.

The engine revved and he peeled down the street. Once he was far enough away from the house to feel comfortable again, he pulled over and slid his phone out of his pocket.

_Can I come over? –C_

Before he could cross his fingers that Michael would reply, he got a message back.

_Come over what? If your answer is anything but me, the answer is no. ;)_

Crowley chuckled and looked at the address Michael had sent him. His brow furrowed. It was a nearby neighborhood. Prostitution must have been a good business if he could rake in that kind of money. There wasn’t a house within 5 miles that came cheap.

When he finally arrived at Michael’s house, he smiled at how pleasant the house looked. All that was missing was a white picket fence. Crowley pulled into the driveway and shut the car off, glancing up to see Michael waiting for him at the door. They smiled pleasantly at each other and Crowley made his way to the front door. He clicked the key fob again to lock his car and slid his hands into his pockets. As much as he wanted to kiss Michael, he didn’t want there to be any presumptions about why he was there. Really, all he wanted was a little friendly companionship.

“What’s going on?” Michael asked, sliding an arm around Crowley’s waist. “You look upset.” At the very least, he appeared to be genuinely worried.

“I just …” Crowley stopped himself. He didn’t want to tell Michael about the fight. It didn’t seem fair to him. “I had a bad day,” he said at last. “I just wanted to see you. That’s all.” Michael smiled and kissed him, and he purred softly into the kiss. He was already starting to relax. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.”

“You don’t have to worry about that.” Michael smiled and took one of Crowley’s hand, leading him into the McMansion he lived in. “Tonight’s my scheduled night off. I wasn’t planning to do anything tonight anyway. I’d much rather spend that time with you, though.”

“I think I’d rather spend this time with you as well.” Crowley smiled and leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his lover’s cheek. When he pulled back, he could see Michael’s face turn ever-so-slightly red. It was precious. “Well, it’s your night off. What would you like to do? Would you like to go out anywhere?”

“Nah, I think I’d rather stay in.” Michael finally let the door shut behind them and gently pressed Crowley against it, smirk curling his lips. “If it’s all the same to you, I think I’d like to make your day a little better.”

Crowley, definitely not used to being in this kind of vulnerable situation, swallowed thickly and looked up at Michael. “How do you plan to do that?” he asked, voice barely more than a rasp.

Michael just smiled a crooked smile and gestured with his head for Crowley to follow him. Crowley did, eagerly, perhaps realizing that he was more of a switch than he would have previously thought. He wasn’t sure what Michael had planned, but whatever it was, it excited him.

They ended up in the bedroom not too long later. Crowley walked over to the bed and ran his hand along the damask bedspread, but he was soon interrupted by Michael’s hands sliding around his waist. He purred softly and looked back at Michael. “We don’t have to do this, you know.”

“But I want to,” he cooed, dipping his head to kiss at Crowley’s neck. “Don’t you want to?”

“Of course I want to. I just …” His train of thought derailed as Michael sank his teeth gently into his neck. “I just … don’t want our relationship to be just sex.”

“This isn’t just sex,” Michael reassured him, slowly starting to unbutton his shirt. “At least, I don’t think it is.”

Nothing more really needed to be said between them. They disrobed each other, getting more and more swept away with their passion as the minutes ticked by. Crowley brought Michael into a passionate kiss, clinging to him as the taller man knocked the both of them over onto the bed.

Michael expertly ran his hands along the usual erogenous zones, whispering into Crowley’s ear. “Have you ever had your prostate massaged?”

Crowley blinked. It wasn’t a question he was expecting to hear. “I don’t think I have,” he replied. He watched as Michael smirked and got up to open a trunk at the foot of the bed. He withdrew a flogger and walked to the side of the bed. “Step one is to get the blood flowing. Face down, please.” When Crowley did as he was told and laid on his stomach, Michael ran his hand up the back of the older man’s thigh. “If I do anything you’re uncomfortable with, all you have to do is tell me.”

“Dove, you can do anything you want to me. This is a blanket declaration of consent.” Crowley smirked back at Michael, shivering softly as Michael ran the flogger lightly up his leg.

Without warning, Michael brought the flogger down across Crowley’s ass with a soft smacking sound. He didn’t give Crowley a chance to say anything before he brought the flogger down again, then again, and again, each time harder than the last. He gave Crowley 15 lashes in total, so his ass was bright red wit irritation.

Crowley whined when Michael stopped, half tempted to beg him to keep going, but he couldn’t form the words properly. He looked up at his lover and saw him give the signal to lay on his back, and he did without question. He started to move his hand down to his length, but Michael brought the flogger down onto his hand to stop him.

“Not until I tell you,” he said with a knowing smirk. “Or will I have to tie you up now?”

Now, normally Crowley didn’t much care for the idea of being tied up. He didn’t like being restrained at all, thanks to a particularly bad experience. However, with Michael? He trusted Michael. He smirked and held his hands up. “Tie away.”

Michael smirked again and went back to his trunk, gathering a pair of restraints. Buckling Crowley’s wrists to his thighs, he stepped back to admire the view. And it _was_ a nice view. Crowley, splayed out before him, cock red and swollen, precum already leaking from the tip. It was remarkably satisfying.

Crowley looked up at Michael and whined impatiently. If he was going to be edged again, he just wanted to know what to expect. He didn’t exactly like the silence as Michael seemed to contemplate his next move. “You know, I don’t mind being a part of the show,” he said, “but a little audience participation might be nice.”

Michael laughed and joined Crowley on the bed, leaning over him with a grin. “Patience is a virtue,” he chimed.

“Not right now it isn’t.”

Michael slid his hand into the drawer of his nightstand and withdrew a small bottle of lube. Emptying some of its contents out onto his hand, he slicked his index and middle fingers, using some of the excess to slick Crowley’s hole. His fingers circled his rim gently, pulling moans of pleasure from Crowley’s throat. Slowly, he pushed his fingers past the ring of muscle. Crowley’s eyes fluttered shut from the sensation, but quickly popped back open when Michael’s finger brushed against his prostate.

He tugged against his restraints as Michael’s fingers rubbed against him in a circular motion. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. His entire body was quaking from the sensation, his hips bucking into Michael’s skilled hand. He tugged at his restraints, desperate to pull Michael down into a kiss, but at the same time it was extremely arousing to see Michael leaning over him the way he was. Crowley tried to use his words to beg for more, but all he could do was rut his hips upward until Michael pinned his hips down.

Before his lips could form the word, “more,” Crowley’s whole body trembled as pleasure rocketed through every extremity. He’d never had an orgasm quite like that before. One that coursed through his body like a drug. Much like a drug, he found he wanted more. However, his body was overly sensitive. Michael must have known that, because he withdrew his fingers in favor of leaning down to kiss him passionately.

Crowley parted Michael’s lips with his tongue and pushed his way into his lover’s mouth, his body still trembling. Michael pulled away all too soon, and Crowley whined. “I want you,” he muttered.

“Not yet.” Michael rested a hand on the nape of Crowley’s neck and brought him up into another kiss, his fingers pushing into him again to crook against Crowley’s prostate once more. His fingers moved in a ‘come hither’ gesture, occasionally circling the swollen gland. Crowley’s breath caught in his throat as he choked out a moan, feeling heat building in his core again as he deepened the kiss. His fists opened and closed into the sheets, desperate for something to cling to since he wasn’t able to cling to Michael the way he wanted to.

When his second orgasm hit, he hadn’t expected it. After all, he’d never felt such mind-blowing orgasms in his life, let alone two of them back to back. This time, though, Michael didn’t stop his ministrations. He tightened his grip on the sheets beneath him and cried out as the sensation became too much for him. Sooner than he’d have thought, he came again, this time shooting ejaculate across the room.

By the time his fourth and fifth orgasms hit, he was coming dry again, and his body felt like it was in a constant state of orgasm. He wasn’t sure he could handle anymore. Michael seemed to have picked up on that, because he withdrew his hand and unbuckled his hands from his thighs. When Michael laid next to him and wrapped his arms around him, Crowley moaned from the touch. “How are you feeling?” Michael asked, pressing gentle kisses to his neck.

“That was amazing,” Crowley croaked, curling into Michael’s arms. “I didn’t think that was physically possible.”

“You pick up a few things in my line of work,” he chuckled. Though, both of them knew there was some tension in the air. “I thought this was a Dean night,” Michael said, softly. “Did something happen?”

Crowley whined and slid an arm around Michael. “We had a fight,” he said, a little too simply. “He said some things I didn’t like, so I walked out.” He ran his hand down his face gently, still a little oversensitive to touch. “I might just go to a hotel for a few days.”

“No you won’t.” Michael looked at Crowley, lifting his chin so their eyes met. “You’re going to stay here for as long as you need.” Crowley sleepily nodded and closed his eyes, only barely noticing when Michael pulled away to tuck him under the covers.

When Crowley opened his eyes, he was alone. He sat up and looked around, still shivering from pleasure. After a moment of Michael not coming back, he got up and grabbed the blanket off of the bed, heading out the door to the hallway. He shuffled his way back down the stairs and to the living room where Michael was laying on the couch. Crowley held up the blanket behind him and laid with Michael, curling up against him. “What are you doing down here by yourself?” he asked.

Michael seemed surprised, but wrapped his arms around Crowley affectionately. “I … I guess I wasn’t sure where we stood. I didn’t want to be presumptuous.”

“Michael, I’m here because-“ Crowley was about to say something, but he decided against it. “… I’m here because I like you. I like being with you. I want to feel you in my arms.”

Michael smiled and kissed Crowley gently. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”


End file.
